3 Secrets
by hopelesslyhalfhearted
Summary: Harry/Nikki/Leo is keeping a secret. What is this secret and how does it help bring Harry/Nikki closer together. PART OF THE SECRETS IN THE LAB CHALLENGE.
1. 1

**I was completely clueless as to how to go about doing the Secrets in the Lab Challenge. I had an idea, but I didn't really know how to flesh it out or how include Leo in it. It's ended up as a three parter, each chapter revealing a secret of each member of the team. Hope you enjoy. Thanks to deadfairies for coming up with the challenge and to dinabar, pinkswallowsun and lizziginne for already writing really good fics. I love them all!**

1

Harry Cunningham did not watch films with people unless he had pre-screened them. There were various things he needed to assess, especially for first date material. He'd taken his first ever girlfriend to see 'Beaches' for her 14th birthday – needless to say it was a complete disaster. Sometimes, he had to admit, it did get boring watching the same film twice – but it was worth it, to avoid anything coming close to the disaster of '88. If the film was deemed inappropriate, he wouldn't have to watch it twice anyway. It tended to be a slight problem on movie nights with Nikki, when she produced a new DVD she really wanted to watch, but luckily he'd managed to wriggle out of it every time, successfully convincing her that there were better films to watch. He'd then return home and watch whatever it was she had suggested, making sure he was ok with it, allowing them to watch it next time Friday came around.

He had never told Nikki about this strange habit. He didn't feel he needed to. And, after all, revealing the habit would have undoubtedly led to her asking why he started it, which would have undoubtedly led to him having to explain what went so badly wrong with Bette Midler in '88. This would have revealed something far more embarrassing than his insistence on pre-screening films; something he had a much larger desire to keep hidden. So, his habit stayed his little secret. A little secret used to cover up a far larger one.

So, it was with trepidation that he made his way to Leo and Janet's house, home of a movie collection he hadn't seen before.

They'd asked if they could possibly hijack his and Nikki's movie night, inviting both of them over to watch a film at theirs. Only Leo could make hijack sound so nice and polite, he thought. Apparently they had something important to tell the younger pair; this didn't surprise him, Leo had been acting shifty were quite a few weeks, and he'd had his suspicions, along with Nikki, that something was going on. At first they thought that maybe things were bad with Janet; Leo seemed to spend all day shut up in his office, barely speaking unless absolutely imperative to the case. But now, it seemed odd to be summoned to their house for a dinner, if it was bad news they wanted to tell. And Leo had sounded quite happy when he'd asked them to come over – although, it was hard for Harry to assess whether his tone was happier than normal, as he hadn't heard him speak about anything but death and murder for weeks.

It left him utterly confused.

The front door was opened to him before he'd even had a chance to knock. He followed her into the kitchen, where Leo and Nikki stood, glasses full of wine, hovering over a bowl of fancy looking crisps. He greeted them with a quick hello, and hung his sodden coat over a radiator.

"White or red?" Janet asked.

"Beer?"

"Of course," They stood awkwardly in silence, as Janet searched for a bottle opener.

"Alright," Harry huffed, fed up of the quiet. "What's up?"

"Wazzup!" Nikki mimicked. "Didn't know you were a teenager from the 90s?"

"What's this big news?" He continued, looking to Leo, not rising to her teasing.

"We'll tell you after dinner," Janet said, handing him his beer. Leo seemed a little disappointed with this decision, but didn't say anything. "Come on, sit down,"

"Do you already know?" He whispered in her ear as they sat down and Janet began dishing out a delicious looking risotto. Not even Janet's food could make up for a re-run of '88, and Harry found himself hoping for the hundredth time that evening that the film would be of the Hot Fuzz variety.

"Nope," Nikki replied. "I tried getting it out of them but they wouldn't budge," She paused. "Well, Leo was close, but Janet stopped him. She's the tough nut,"

"I hope this is ok," Janet motioned for them to begin eating. "What do you normally have on your movie night?"

"Takeaway,"

"This is far better," Nikki added with a smile. "Thank you,"

"Yeah, thanks," He said enthusiastically between mouthfuls – it was heaven on a plate.

"What have you been doing at work recently?" He thought this was an odd question for her to be asking – surely Leo would keep her up to date on work? Maybe they really _weren't _talking – but they'd seemed completely normal so far. He was wholly bewildered.

For the rest of the meal, they chatted happily about work, discussing various cases that baffled them and all laughing uproariously as Nikki retold the tale of one of Zak's various girlfriends assuming he was involved with his colleague, and subsequently barging into the office and screaming at her for 10 minutes, before Harry managed to get her to leave. Throughout this, Leo stayed scarily quiet, leaving Harry to worry even more than he already was.

"That was the best thing I've eaten all week," He declared, leaning back in his chair, leaving a sparkling clean plate in front of him. "Now, will you please tell us what's going on?"

"You're really impatient aren't you?" Janet laughed. Why was she so happy, when Leo seemed so depressed?

"I want to know why he's so bloody quiet," Leo laughed at the concern in his voice. "What's wrong with you two?"

"Nothing's wrong, Harry, I promise," It was the first time Leo had said more than 2 words to anyone all night.

"Then why _are _you so quiet?" Nikki probed.

"We have a little secret," He noticed the quick grin Leo flashed at Janet before continuing. "And the only way I could stop myself telling you both straight away was by not talking,"

"So it's good news?"

"Yes, it's very good," A stagnant quiet hung around, as if they were waiting for someone to begin a drum roll.

"What is it then?" He was beginning to get very tired of waiting.

"We're adopting!" They chimed in sync.

Harry and Nikki followed their announcement with large gasps, and then numerous variations of congratulations and expressions of surprise. They asked about the child, of course – girl, 2 years old, ginger hair, green eyes, gorgeous laugh, she'd move in for a trial period in 2 weeks. They looked through pictures and files and documents and videos. They heard about the visits to the care home, the child they'd pinned their hopes on but had the disappointment of it falling through, and their caution in revealing their new plans, just in case the same thing happened again.

They spent so long discussing her, Ellie, that it was too late to watch a film by the time they were over. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he walked out of the house. Leo's secret was out, and he was happy for his boss. His own secret was safe – disaster had been avoided. All was good with the world.


	2. 2

2

Being nosey was a trait he'd inherited from his father, apparently.

Nikki had discovered this characteristic the first time he'd come over to her flat – she'd nipped out for a pint of milk, and returned to find him searching through her cupboards, assessing her eating habits. They'd laughed about it of course, but since then, she'd made a conscience effort to not leave him alone anywhere near the things she didn't want him knowing about. True, he was her best friend, but there were some items in her flat that were definitely _not _Harry friendly. Undoubtedly, one day he probably would end up stumbling across her underwear drawer and childhood collection of Dr Who figurines (she wasn't sure which would be more embarrassing) but for the moment, they were among the things that she wanted to remain private.

She didn't even dare think about what would happen if he found the box under her bed.

The drunken early morning call should have stirred him from his sleep and therefore angered him, but it just so happened that night he'd stayed up to watch a film on BBC 2 – and so, didn't mind going to pick her up too much.

As he helped her up the stairs to her apartment, he tried to figure out how many times he'd received a similar call since he'd known her. He couldn't work out an exact figure, so instead settled on trying to work out how many times he'd actually responded to her slurred requests to be taken home. In the end, he settled on 100%. He couldn't decide if this proved his loyalty as a friend or just how pathetic he was to have no life of his own.

He stayed in the kitchen after leaving her in the bedroom. He'd never offered to help her change out of her clothed – most of the time she seemed to just strip them off and replace them with nothing, or sleep with them on.

As usual, after finishing off the coffee he had made for himself, he went in to check on her.

And, as usual, she was sleeping soundly. He pulled the duvet up over her, so it covered her naked frame, not allowing himself any time to admire her in the moonlight, before beginning the routine of neatly piling up her clothes. One time she'd woken up in the morning, stood on a randomly discarded, expensive, favourite shoe and snapped the heel straight off; he had tidied up after her ever since. That night, he was only able to find one of the ridiculously high stilettos she had been wearing. She was definitely wearing 2 when he helped her out the car. He searched the rest of the apartment and the stairway, thinking she may have kicked one off without him noticing, but found nothing.

Back in the bedroom, he went onto his knees and felt underneath the bed.

Sure enough, there it was, but it was caught on something. He pulled on it, and out with it came a large box, sealed shut with a delicately tied ribbon. He untangled the shoe heel from the red ribbon, in the process accidentally knocking off the lid, to reveal that it contained a large collection of what looked like notebooks.

He could have easily popped the lid back on, pushed it back where it belonged and left. But he was Harry.

They didn't seem to be in any kind of order, with no dates printed on the outside covers, so he just pulled out the one at the top and started reading.

_25__th__ August 2006_

_I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. _

_He can go to America for all I care. He'll enjoy it. I'll enjoy it. He'll finally be off my case. Stupid man. Wish he'd get the next flight out there. _

He didn't continue with that entry.

He paused for a while, trying to force himself to stop. He knew it was wrong to be reading her diaries – it was the worst invasion of privacy he could think of. He placed the notebook back into the box and closed the lid.

He stared at it for a while, begging his legs to move and make him stand up off the floor, to leave the box alone. But the urge to find out what else she had written about him was too large. She was asleep anyway, he reasoned – she'd never find out, no harm would be done. He picked up another book.

_4__th__ January 2009_

_Was preparing for this entry to be incredibly angry, but Harry came round tonight and cheered me up. Even agreed to watch The Notebook, which is a plus. Could pass off crying as crying at film, not crying over ridiculously pathetic waste of space ex-boyfriend (Harry kindly refrained from any 'I told you so') Truth is, haven't ever cried at film – just not capable of doing it. Not even English Patient. _

_He brought pizza and wine, so New Year's resolutions down the drain._

_Though do appreciate being cheered up, doesn't help much, as only proves how bad all men are in comparison to him. Wish he'd take me out properly some time. _

_Pull yourself together. May as well start writing 'Mrs Harry Cunningham' in love hearts like a teenager._

His breathe caught in his throat as he read the last line. He skipped forward a few pages.

_18__th__ September 2009_

_He's not perfect, but as Harry pointed out, far better than all the others. Also, lasted longer than all others. Could be marriage material. Going out to theatre tomorrow – hope it's a musical and not some stupid play. Harry would know would prefer musical. _

_Must stop comparing to Harry. Will never be married to Harry. _

He struggled to remember which boyfriend she could have been referring to, but it didn't really matter, he'd been and gone. Harry brushed his fingers over the last words; she'd written about marriage and him in the same sentence. He would have collapsed in a heap on the floor if hadn't already been sat against her bed. He searched through the remaining pages, scouring them for his name – reading only the parts that applied to him.

_Harry brought his new girlfriend for drinks tonight. She's not going to last long. Wish he'd just find someone his own age._

_Harry needs to shave._

_Harry needs a haircut._

_Dinner with Harry and his Mum, very nice. Think Mrs C may be onto me though, raised eyebrow suggestively. Though, maybe could be imagining it._

_Harry needs a haircut._

_...would be v. depressing if alone. Wonder what Harry's doing for Christmas?_

_Harry with girlfriend for Christmas. May accept nice offer from Leo and Janet._

_Must remind him get haircut before presenting self to girlfriend's family._

He reached for a different book.

_1__st__ January 2011_

_Resolutions:_

_No chocolate_

_No spirits_

_Finish all reports __**before **__deadline_

_Find good guy and when found, do not compare to Harry_

_Stop school girl crush on best friend_

He heard her move, and quickly put the book away, and reached for another one, hoping it would be the most recent.

_1__st__ January 2012_

_No chocolate_

_No spirits_

_Finish all reports __**before **__deadline_

_Go to gym at least 3 times week_

_Practice cello more_

He tried not to feel too downhearted at her failure to mention him. She'd obviously succeeded at resolution number 5 from 2011.

"Harry?" She mumbled, forcing him to stop wallowing in self pity, close the diary and return the box to its home, under her bed.

"Go back to sleep," He whispered gently, leaving the room before the guilt and sadness on his face could give him away.

**I'm aware that these two chapters don't seem to link at all, but I'm hoping the next one might sort of bring them together. Maybe. Thank you as always!**


	3. 3

3

He liked playing games with her. Hide and seek was a favourite. Of course, she was usually far better at this than him, being 10 times smaller. Janet had accidentally interrupted their game once; having gone to the washing basket to load up the machine, instead of dirty socks and shirts (buttons still done up, no matter how many times she told him), she found her little girl, curled up in a ball. She'd spoken to her a little too loudly, alerting Harry to her position, and leaving Ellie in a strop.

Leo joined in too. He was even worse at hiding than his younger colleague.

Nikki stopped taking part after the unfortunate incident with the airing cupboard.

It was a little family they had created. Leo and Janet hadn't been sure of what she was meant to call them, but she came out with Mummy and Dad on her own, and they settled with that – enjoying the feeling of belonging it gave them every time she tottered up to them and asked them something. Harry and Nikki had originally attempted to be Uncle and Aunt, but he had ended up as Hair, and Nikki was Niks. They too settled on it. It was nice.

When it came to her birthday, he had wanted an all out, no expenses spared party, with all her friends from nursery, along with their parents. Janet and Leo sensibly, and politely, refused his idea of hiring a circus big top out for the night; along with suggestions of a foam party, Lord of the Rings theme ('They can all dress as dwarves and the tallish ones can be Hobbits') and a red carpet event, where they all would ride in a limo ('They're 3 years old, Harry' 'Exactly, what's cuter than a toddler in a tux?').

In the end they settled on a simple birthday tea, with 6 of her friends.

Hair and Niks arrived once the other toddlers had left – though they found their favourite ginger nut incredibly cute and lovely, they weren't quite able to deal with a room full of children just yet. Maybe it was a skill possessed only by teachers and parents. They quizzed her on the presents she had received, and then gave her theirs; an outfit from Nikki and an outrageously large soft polar bear from him. They picked at the leftover cocktail sausages and party rings, as they played with the various toys she had received and Leo helped Janet clear up the mess.

"Do you want to watch the DVD Uncle Tom sent?" Leo asked as he joined them on the sofa.

"Yes!" She screeched in delight. Harry crossed his fingers, hoping that it was something to do with Disney Princesses and other such nonsense. No chance of his secret being let out with something like that.

"What film is it?" Harry asked, attempting not to sound too nervous.

"Red Dog," He hadn't heard of that one. "It's Australian. I'm not really sure what it's about; Janet's brother sent it." Leo slotted the disc in and then passed him the box, allowing him to inspect it. As far as he could work out, it was a family film about a hitch hiking dog. Nothing too emotional there. He'd be fine.

"Janet, are you coming?" Nikki called into the kitchen.

"One sec!"

"Sit with you?" Harry took one look at her adorable face and pulled her up onto his lap.

"Of course you can," He smiled. "Happy birthday,"

An hour and a half later, the film finished.

He was not fine. He hated Janet's brother – a man he had never met – for providing them with the film. He hated the people who made the box; it was unfair to make it sound like that, misleading him. He was under the impression it was a family comedy. And though, he conceded, it was family friendly and incredibly hilarious, they should have added something to the description to warn people like himself - something similar to the various signs you see at the start of a queue for a rollercoaster:

Do not ride if pregnant.

Do not ride if suffering from any heart condition.

Do not ride if below 1.5m.

"Harry, are you crying?" He rubbed his hand against his eyes, trying to not make the motion seem too obvious, attempting to pass it off as an itch. "You're crying!"

Do not watch if in possession of the tear ducts of a soft, 80 year old lady.

"You're crying!" She was enjoying his embarrassment far too much.

"Come on, bed time," Leo scooped his little girl into his arms, ignoring his colleagues teasing, and then let her say goodnight to Harry and Nikki, before taking her upstairs.

"I can't believe you're actually crying!" She put a hand out to touch his arm, but he flinched away.

"Lay off it," He muttered, furiously trying to stop the precipitation from his glazed over orbs. Janet, like her husband, tactically stayed out of it. "I better get going," He stood up and hugged her, thanking her for the evening, before leaving, with Nikki in close pursuit.

"Which bit did it for you?" She asked in her sing-song teasing tone. "The guy in the middle or the end with the dog?" He rolled his eyes at her and carried on walking in silence. "Come on," She caught up and wrapped her arms around one of his. "It's sweet," Her tone turned serious for a second, but didn't stay that way for long. "Which bit was it?"

"Both,"

"I can't believe I've never seen you cry at a film before," She tugged at his arm, an action that sent shivers up his spine ever since 2 months previously, a night he had since dubbed 'Diary Doomsday'. "We must have watched hundreds together," He still stayed silent. "You didn't even cry at Finding Neverland!"

"Well," He decided that, as she had already found out the bigger secret, there was no point keeping to smaller one from her now. After all, it had only ever been a secret in the first place to cover up his crying fits. "I pre-screen films,"

"You what?"

"Since 1988 I have not watched a film with another person or in public unless I've seen it before hand, or I know for certain that it contains no emotion whatsoever."

"Wait, hold on, jump back a step," She really was enjoying it far too much. "Why do you pre-screen them?"

"If I cry on the first time I watch them, I won't cry the second time,"

"Seriously?" She giggled. "So you're a serial crier?" He nodded, burying his face down further into his scarf, hoping his apartment was just around the corner, even though he knew he had at least another 10 minutes to walk. "Hold on, why 1988?"

"Because," He sighed, trying to work out how long she'd tease him about it for. Forever, probably. "That was when I took my first high school girlfriend to see Beaches. She dumped me 2 days later."

"You cried all over her?"

"Wept like a baby,"

"My god," She struggled to contain her laughter.

"Can you give it a rest now, please?" He snapped, even though he knew she wouldn't.

"Sorry," The continuing slightly-repressed giggles took the sincerity out of her apology, somehow. "It's so cute,"

"Jesus," He moaned.

"What's wrong with that? It was a compliment. It's cute,"

"Cute stops being a male compliment past the age of 6." He muttered indignantly.

"Ellie doesn't strop like this,"

"Ellie doesn't have a friend who constantly teases her!"

"You tease her quite a bit,"

"I do not!"

"You call her smelly Ellie," He opened his mouth to argue, but she stopped him. "And you know she hates it,"

"That's affectionate teasing!"

"So is this," She smiled innocently, letting her lips reveal her blinding white teeth. He took in how beautiful she looked, under the streetlight, her breathe floating in the air, hair beginning to fall out of its bun after a long day at work – and, not for the first time since Doomsday, regretted not telling her how he felt earlier. He regretted not realising how he felt earlier. When she felt the same. Before it was too late.

"You're evil,"

"You love me for it though,"

"Definitely not,"

"Then why do you love me?" Her voice was teasing and playfully, but the question took him off guard. If he were to list all the reasons, he would most likely be there all night. And, he'd probably end up revealing far more than he meant to – he'd had one secret revealed that night, which was already one too many in his opinion.

"I don't love you," He answered quickly, trying to sound jovial, hoping she hadn't noticed his initial stumble. "Because you're a horrible, horrible friend,"

"I'm not!"

"You most certainly are,"

"Don't be moody,"

"I'm allowed to be moody – how do you know that I'm not really sensitive about my crying, huh? Maybe the girl from '88 was the one for me and now I've lost her because of it, maybe I'm forever emotionally scarred?" He grinned at her. "You shouldn't tease people about something when you don't know how painful it is for them,"

"I'm sorry," The giggles took away any sincerity the apology could have held.

"Doesn't cut it,"

"What can I do?"

He thought about his answer for a long time, leaving her to wonder if he was ever going to reply.

"I want you tell me something embarrassing about yourself," She smiled, and opened her mouth to begin. "Something I don't know." That stopped her in her tracks. "Am embarrassing secret," She was flummoxed.

"But you know all my secrets,"

"There must be something,"

"There isn't,"

"There's something,"

"No there isn't, Harry," He smiled at how red she was turning. "I promise,"

"From the colour your face has gone, there quite clearly is,"

"Quite clearly is not,"

"Just one little thing, tell me one little secret," He grinned. "To make up for teasing me,"

"You don't make me tell you a secret all the other times I tease you!"

"Maybe I should start,"

"You're an idiot,"

"Let's not resort to name calling," They reached his doorstep.

"Oh, what a shame, you're home," She spoke dramatically. "I won't be able to tell you anything now, toodle pip, see you tomorrow," She turned around to leave, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back to face him.

"You don't get off that easily," Only then did he realise how close his action had left them, noses almost touching, breath warming each other's cold lips. He'd always been aware of personal space – but for some reason with her, he chose to ignore it. Maybe it was because she never objected; maybe it was just because he enjoyed it so much. "Come on, one little secret," He tried to ignore the feel of her breath against his lips.

"I keep a diary,"

"Already know that," He cursed himself – he hadn't been paying attention, he'd let his mouth speak before his brain thought, and now he'd well and truly stuck his foot in it. 2 months of hard work trying to pretend nothing had happened, down the drain with 3 stupid words. There was no way she would forgive him for what he did.

"How?" He hoped his eyes didn't give him away, as she searched them intently.

"I just figured you were that type of person,"

"You read them," She spat accusingly; he always had been a terrible liar. "I can't believe you read my diaries,"

"Only a little bit," He argued desperately. "Just the bits about me,"

"Oh good, that makes it ok then," It sounded like something she should have shouted, but whether it was because she wasn't as angry as he had expected, or because of their close proximity, the words came out as a rushed whispered, bitter and sarcastic. "How much did you read?"

"Not much, I promise," She'd never seen him look so guilty or embarrassed. "I...just little snippets,"

"Enough snippets to get the jist?" He was fairly sure what 'jist' she was referring to, so swallowed hard and replied.

"Yes,"

"And what did you think of that revelation?"

"It doesn't matter now," He let his eyes rest on his feet, deciding that was the safest place for them. He didn't want her seeing him cry twice in one night.

"Of course it matters,"

"It doesn't," He twiddled with a penny in his coat pocket. "Your New Year's resolution, you succeeded,"

"Which resolution?"

"Quite clearly not the chocolate one," He mumbled, thinking back to the dubious amount of chocolate fingers they had each gobbled with Ellie.

He hadn't expected her reaction to be laughter, or to place her hand on his chin, pulling his face up.

"You look like a puppy that's just been told off," She observed.

"Look, Nikki, I am really sorry," He began. "I know it was a stupid, stupid thing to do. But I am sorry. I am. And I really hope it doesn't make anything awkward – I get it, you used to like me, now you don't. I'm..." He struggled to think of a word that described quite how he felt about that. "I'm...I regret that...that it's in the past, I mean. But you've always been my best friend, and I honestly can't imagine...I just...I'm really sorry, and I'll do anything to make it up to you..."

The kiss took him off guard; short but sweet; not nearly long enough, yet more than satisfying; desperate, but delicate.

"I'm really bad at keeping New Year's resolutions," She whispered, giving him time to process what had just happened. Once he finally had, he was left grinning from ear to ear.

"I can tell by..." She cut him off with a chaste kiss, deeper than the first; he was finding it difficult to believe his luck.

"If your dare finish that sentence with 'your waistline' I'll kill you,"

"I was going to say the piles of paper on your desk," He smiled innocently.

"Really?"

"Yes,"

"If you're lying, I'll make you watch Red Dog again," She paused. "Or even better, Up,"

"You're just sadistic,"

"Seeing grown men cry turns me on," She whispered huskily.

"You're never going to let me forget it, are you?"

"Never,"

He desperately wanted to ask her what it meant – for him, for her, for them – should he ask her on a date?; was she his girlfriend?; hadn't she been dating someone recently? He calmed his neurotic brain, and settled for just enjoying 'it' before worrying about anything that may follow. For it felt wonderful, and relieving, and fulfilling; for it was all he had ever hoped for years. No, he would not worry himself about the future, and simply enjoy the present.

Though, he'd heard the new Italian down the road from the Lyell Centre was good. She liked Italian.

**So quite a few secrets for Harry :) Sorry for lack of updating, have had a busy exam month, but hopefully will have more time now :)**


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